


You Should See The Things We Do

by Aaveena



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, But It's All In Their Heads, Cunnilingus, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29406885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaveena/pseuds/Aaveena
Summary: Ben and Rey are enjoying a little bit ofalonetime. The Force thinks they should spend that alone time together.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	You Should See The Things We Do

Rey can’t sleep. Ajan Kloss is swelteringly hot. Heat is not something that Rey is completely unused to, having spent most of her life living on Jakku, but at night? Absolutely not. And that’s not to mention the humidity, thick and suffocating. Sometimes she thinks she might drown in the air alone. Tonight happens to be one of those times.

She kicked the thin blanket from her cot long ago, squirming and writhing around in a vain attempt to find some amount of comfort. She huffs a frustrated sigh into the quiet, dark night. Insomnia has been a long-time companion of Rey, though she hardly finds it companionable. So many nights on Jakku had been plagued by sleeplessness, worries and hopes alike tormenting her and stealing any chance of much-needed rest. Rey knows only one sure-fire way to solve this specific problem.

Thankful, and not for the first time, that she has been granted her own private bunk, she pops one finger into her mouth, wetting it slightly, before slipping the digit under the thin fabric of her sleep-shorts and between the folds of her sex.

She doesn’t tease herself. There’s no need to draw this out. Actually, she’d prefer to get it over with as soon as possible so that she can finally get some sleep. She closes her eyes, knowing that using a bit of imagination in conjunction with physical stimulation is the best way to get her _there_ as quickly as possible.

Back on Jakku, her imaginings would consist of nothing more than a faceless, featureless being, often a humanoid male, though not always. Envisioning someone else being the one to give her pleasure always helped to speed things along in the past, though she’s strayed away from it recently as more and more often her blank canvas of a person began to gain thick, dark hair, soulful, fathomless eyes, and full, pouty lips. She pretends the face she sees behind her eyes now is not _his_.

She starts slowly but gradually increases pressure and speed, steadily building up to the inevitable peak. She knows that his fingertips are rough and calloused like hers are – they are the only part of him she’s ever touched – which makes the illusion she longs to deny all the more easy to maintain. A sigh escapes her lips and it’s so close to sounding like his name that she almost stops.

She’s so close, nearly there, when all of the air is sucked from the room and a sound like rushing blood fills her ears. Cool air licks at the thin layer of perspiration on her skin and it might be a relief if she didn’t know what it meant. Panic grips her heart as she rips her hand from her pants.

_Why now_? _Force,_ _why now_?

Rey opens her eyes to find that, for the first time since this strange bond she shares with Kylo Ren began, she can see his surroundings. She’s on the mirror-shined, black floor of a throne room, one that looks so much like Snoke’s that it steals the breath from her lungs. Black tapestries marked with the insignia of the First Order flank the sides of a throne raised on a multi-staired dais.

Kylo sits on the throne, the sole person in the room. Rey wonders why that might be, why he might have sent whatever guards normally defend the new Supreme Leader away – or she had been wondering that until she realized exactly what it is that he is doing.

Hunched over, eyes screwed shut tight, cock in hand, he strokes himself furiously. Rey swallows heavily at the sight, her heart pounding in her ears, her cunt throbbing, half forgotten. He doesn’t seem to sense that she’s there, or perhaps he doesn’t care. He handles himself roughly, cruelly almost. She can’t look away, though she knows that she should. This is something that – it’s _private_! She would be mortified if he had caught her – yes, mortified, definitely not excited, thrilled, _aroused_. She is certainly not aroused now, even if the growing wetness in her core might beg to differ.

“ _Rey_ ,” her name tumbles from his lips like a benediction, like a prayer, his voice rough and shaken, like the sound of bones rattling together. Rey gasps before she can stop herself.

His eyes fly open, surprised and wide. Embarrassment crosses over his features in a wave but it is gone as quickly as it appeared. He does not release himself as he stares into her eyes, chest heaving, nor does he speak. What is there to say? What words remain between the two of them now?

His unwavering gaze burns through her, igniting her blood, heating her core. She _needs_ to touch herself again. Lust pulsates in her cunt like a heartbeat, steady and slow and demanding. She can’t though, not now, not with him here, watching her.

Her heart flutters as Kylo, bolder than she is in this moment, perhaps sensing her own desires across the gossamer thread of the bond between them, strokes himself once slowly. She licks her lips as he runs the pad of his thumb across the tip of his cock, collecting the beads of pre-come waiting there and coating the thick shaft of his member with it. He moans and his shoulders hunch forward, but his eyes remain firmly locked on her own.

He’s trying to intimidate her. She’s certain of it. This is some strange sort of power play. Well, she won’t allow him to win, not even at this. Slowly, she pushes trembling fingers back past the hem of her pants. She feels rather than hears his request for her to pull them down fully but she shakes her head, denying him.

She matches his pace, coating her fingers in her own juices and rubbing her clit just as slowly as he strokes himself. An image is pushed along the thread that connects them, binds them across the universe. It’s so clear, like a memory of something that never happened or a dream shared between their minds. She’s not sure if Kylo means for her to see this vison, but it is clear that it comes from him.

_Rey is on her knees at the foot of the throne, her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the tips of her fingers barely able to touch each other. She looks up at him with large, sparkling eyes. She licks her lips, pink and full and kiss-bruised, before wrapping them around the large, purpling head._

_Kylo’s hips buck as Rey licks the slit at the tip of his dick and hums delightedly at the taste of him. She lowers herself, taking as much of him into her mouth as she is able. She licks along the underside of the shaft and her cheeks hollow when she sucks. His hands are woven in her hair, encouraging her along, his thumb rubbing along her scalp tenderly._

Angrily, Rey shatters the vision, ripping it from both of them, before pushing one of her own along their connection. Two can play at this game.

_Rey is sat on the throne now, her legs bare and spread wide. Kylo – no – Ben kneels before her, a willing supplicant. He rubs both large hands up her thighs and dives into her waiting cunt without preamble. He licks his tongue up the length of her slit with one broad stroke before stopping at her clit to nibble and suckle at it._

_Rey fists his thick hair with a vice-like grip. It must be painful for him, but he doesn’t care. Perhaps, he even likes it, the pain. He moans into her, the vibrations humming along the entire length of her body._

Rey is panting, rubbing herself with increasing intensity, though it quickly becomes clear that it won’t be enough. She uses her free hand to push up her shirt and works at her breast, pinching, pulling, and stimulating the nipple, every tweak of pain and pleasure shooting straight down to her core.

Ben’s eyes flutter open and he groans, “ _fuck_.”

Rey closes her eyes again, unable to see him so utterly debauched by the mere sight of her breast. Her chest and face are flushed red and burning. Her whole body is on fire, hot and twitching with need. The cool floor below is a stark relief.

Ben pushes back against her influence over their shared vision and regains control.

_Rey is still seated on the throne, dressed in a gown of sliver shimmersilk, the fabric as fluid water. The low-cut neckline is pushed aside, her tits on full display. The skirt is rucked up around her hips and Ben is devouring her. He throws one of her legs over his shoulder to allow himself a better angle as he sucks at her clit mercilessly. Rey squirms upon her seat of power and he holds her down with one hand across the whole span of her abdomen._

_Ben thrusts his tongue into her entrance, lapping up her juices as Rey moans wantonly above him, her ring-clad fingers digging into the dark stone of the throne’s armrests. He kisses the scars on her thighs, ones received during a life of toil and hardship and scavenging. Each kiss is a promise, a future, a home, belonging. The scars shine like stars when he leaves them slick with his own saliva and her arousal._

Rey’s chest heaves. Her skin is too tight. She tries not to think too hard about what Ben is showing her, It’s too loving, too tender. That’s not what this is – what is this?

She rips the shorts from her legs, desperate to distract him. It works like a charm, the images projected across their bond fade as Ben looks with dark, hungry eyes at her glistening sex. Rey dips one finger and then a second into her entrance. She moans breathily. It’s not enough. His would be so much larger. His fingers, his cock. She whimpers at the thought alone.

She doesn’t know who supplies the next scene, if it belongs to her mind or to Ben’s. Perhaps it belongs to both of them, a mutual fantasy.

_Ben sits on the throne and Rey straddles his thighs, fully nude. He kneads her ass with one hand and holds her steady at the waist with another. Leaning down, he sucks the nipple of her right breast into his mouth, lapping and sucking. Rey grips at the black fabric of his tunic with white knuckles._

Rey frowns, disliking the disparity in this new vision. She swiftly removes his shirt, supplying instead the well-worn memory of his bare chest. If the Ben in the fantasy smirks she ignores it.

_Rey runs her hands along his shoulders, memorizing the shape and feel of his muscles, his skin. She can feel his cock, hard and heavy, twitching against her thigh insistently and her body clenches around nothing. Slowly, she lowers herself onto him. There’s no pain, only pleasure, a fullness she’s never realized before._

_Ben lifts his head from her chest as she sheaths him inside of her completely. His pupils are wide, dilated with lust, but there’s a softness there, a warmth. His gaze lowers to her lips and he hesitates a moment before claiming her lips with his own. Rey sighs into the kiss. His tongue runs along the seam of her mouth and she welcomes it eagerly, taking it and tangling it with her own as she begins to rock up and down on his cock. Rey is beautiful in his mind, a goddess riding him, and Ben is beautiful in hers, a dark god carved of marble there to please only her._

_The friction is marvelous and he meets her every move with a thrust of his own. She cries out when he snakes a hand between them to play with her clit, his mouth never once separating itself from hers._

Rey snaps back to reality, too close to continue the scene playing out. She adds a third finger and concentrates the heel of her hand on her aching clit. Ben is staring at her from the throne, clearly just as close as she is. She loses herself in his eyes as the tension inside of her mounts ever and ever higher until it finally breaks, like waves over a rocky shore.

“ _Ben_ ,” she practically keens, her voice high-pitched and breathless.

Her back arches as her orgasm overtakes her, warmth spreading from her core to every nerve and synapse. Her arousal pools on the once clean floor beneath her. Whether it is the sight of her coming undone or the echo of her orgasm across the bond that sets Ben over the edge, Rey can’t say, but she watches as he spills over his hand, come staining his tunic and cape and pants. Her name is on his lips when he comes. He doesn’t have to tell her that it’s not the first time. It’s not the first time for her either.

“Rey,” He says desperately and the Force, in it’s unending cruelty, decides to break the connection then.

Rey is back in her room, back in the heat, sat atop her cot – pant less. She leans down and searches for them on the floor but they’re nowhere to be found. They must still be in the throne room, on the First Order ship, with Ben. Perhaps she should be upset about that, but she’s not. Some part of her, a wicked part, likes the idea of him keeping a souvenir, of him having some piece of tonight and whatever it was they shared.

She finds another pair of shorts and lies back down on her cot. Her body sated and happy, sleep comes easily, even in the heat. That night she dreams of Ben.

**Author's Note:**

> 💕💗Happy Valentines Day! 💗💕
> 
> This is an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a little while. I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you think! Thanks so much for reading! 😊💕


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